Short, but sweet
by KDSanders
Summary: I've been doing a lot of drabbles and a few have been too short to demand their own story.  This is a collection of what I've taken to calling my drabblets...my very short drabbles.  Various characters.  DH spoilers!
1. Just as I left it

**(A/N: Drabble for ****Sugarquill****. Prompt was Library, under 300 words.)**

**Just as I Left it**

"Hermione," he called quietly. "Hermione, where are you?"

"Over here," her voice answered significantly louder. "You don't have to whisper, technically the library is closed."

"I've been looking for you," he said seriously, "I was worried. You shouldn't wander off, it's still not safe."

"The castle has been sealed, not that any death eaters would be foolish enough to try again. They'd be vastly out numbered."

"I was still worried," he said surprised at her sudden calm, "what are you doing in here anyway?"

"I was bringing these back," she said motioning to the stack of dark arts books beside her. "I wanted to hide them while the library was still closed. I thought I'd charm the titles into something no one will ever want to read."

Ron couldn't help but notice the smile on Hermione's face. He looked around, trying to find the cause, but she supplied the answer before he could ask.

"It's completely untouched," she sighed. "All of this madness and it's exactly how I last saw it."

Ron smiled. Only Hermione could find solace from the chaos of war in the library.


	2. You've found us

**(A/N: A ****drabble**** for ****Sugarquill****. Prompt was Hermione, under 300 words.)**

**You've Found Us**

"Miss Granger is it?" She nodded nervously. "I'm Dr. Wilkins. Now open up and let's have a look at those teeth."

After a few moments of examination he told her to rest her mouth as he turned to write something in her chart.

"Hermione," he mused, "that's such a lovely name. If my wife and I ever had a daughter I'd like to name her Hermione."

She couldn't wait any longer. I was unbearable having him right there and him not knowing her. She flourished her wand and whispered something under her breath.

"Hermione?" He was now confused. "Hermione what's going on? This isn't my office, where are we?" He noticed that she was crying and wrapped his arms around her, "don't cry. Tell your old dad what's going on here."

"It's a long story," she sighed and quickly went into it trying not to confuse him to much. "Now it's all over," she said coming to the end, "and the first thing I wanted to do is come and find you and Mum."

"Oh," he said hugging her. "No wonder you're crying. It's alright dear, you've found us now and everything's going to be ok. Now," he said with a smile, "let's get your mother in here and fill her in."

Hermione cast just as her mother entered the room, she was a little less disoriented than her husband had been.

"Hermione Jean Granger, tell me what is going on right this instant."

Hermione burst into a mixture of laughter and tears, she'd never imagined she'd be so happy to her hear mother say her name.


	3. Away from 'Mortal Peril'

**(A/N: Drabble for ****sugarquill's**** "darkest moments" challenge. This moment belongs to Molly Weasley and is a lost moment from CoS.)**

**Away From 'Mortal Peril'**

The room was dark. There were figures surrounding her but she did not try to make out their faces. Her eyes were focused at the front of the room, the one source of light. At the head of the room was a marble alter encircled in soft candle light. She held her breath slowly daring to step forward. Someone was sobbing and a part of her heart wanted to find who it was. She wanted to sooth them; ease their pain, but something told her to keep going.

Her hand quickly went to her mouth as she reached the alter and through the tears she could see a figure lying there. It was a young girl. She wore a beautiful gown with her hands folded gracefully at her chest. The candle light made her fair skin seem as if it were glowing against her bright red hair. Reaching out she touched the girls face, "Ginny." She whispered before breaking down completely.

"Molly," her husband called her name and she awoke with a jerk. Arthur wrapped his arms around her with tears streaming down his face. "Molly they've found her. She's alive."

Her heart felt as if it where going to burst as her eyes fell to the family clock and she saw that Ginny's hand had moved away from "mortal peril" back to "school".


	4. Flying Lessons

(Drabble for sugarquill. Under 300 words, prompt was Fly.)

**Flying Lessons**

Her stomach was in knots as she padded along quietly behind him. Why had she agreed to this? What was it about him that made her want to give in to his every whim?

He faced her, his gaze instantly calming her until he asked, "you ready?"

She nodded.

"Alright, I'm sure you know the basic steps of flying. After all, you know everything else," he laughed. "All that remains now is to get you on a broom.

He released the broom and let it hover in front of him.

"I rented this broom from Quality Quidditch Supplies when you agreed to come riding. It's not as fast as my Cleansweep, but it's sturdy enough for two riders. If you end up liking tandem riding I can buy it. The shop keeper said he'd give it to me at a very reasonable price, what with it being a rental model and all."

"Perhaps," she replied rather doubtful.

Ron placed one hand on the broom steadying it as he swung a leg over. Keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground he lowered it slightly to allow his fiancée to do the same. They ascended slowly into the air and before Hermione new it they were level with the roof of The Burrow.

"I'm going to speed it up a little," Ron said glancing back at her.

Hermione bit her lip.

As their ascent leveled off and their speed steadied Hermione relaxed her grip allowing her chin to rest on Ron's shoulder.

After an hour of flying, Hermione found herself smiling at the closeness of the moment.

When they dismounted back at The Burrow, Ron swung the broom over his shoulder.

"So," he asked. "What did you think?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "Buy the broom," she smiled.


	5. How Far We've Come

**(Drabble for ****Sugarquill****. Under 300 words, prompt was Halloween)**

**How Far We've Come**

The room burst into laughter as Arthur finished his story. It was almost like a normal evening at the Burrow, except they weren't at the Burrow. The Weasley's (that is Arthur Weasley and his son's accompanied by their wives) and the Potter's had all been invited to a dinner at the home of the Minister for Magic, Minister Shacklebolt.

The home was warmly decorated in Halloween flair, pumpkins served as the centerpiece of the long crowded table. The night was filled with food, laughter and stories of old times.

Hermione smiled, holder her husband's hand as the dinner drew to a close and they bid goodnight to their friends and family and apparated home.

"That wasn't so bad for our first Halloween having both of the children at Hogwarts." Ron said getting ready for bed.

"No," Hermione sighed, "as a matter of fact, it was quite lovely."

Hermione laughed to herself as she brushed her hair in the mirror.

"What," Ron asked overhearing her laughter.

"I was just thinking," she looked at him, "do you remember our first Halloween?"

"As a couple?"

"No," she answered grinning, "Our first Halloween, after we met."

Ron stared into space as if trying to remember.

Hermione laughed aloud when she saw the answer hit him.

"The troll," he laughed.

"The troll," she nodded, crossing the room to wrap her arms around him. "We've certainly come a long way haven't we dear?"


	6. Dreams

(A/N: another drabble written for Sugarquill. 300 words or less...prompt was dreams.)

**Dreams**

She stared into her coffee cup, a blank look upon her face.

Percy noticed instantly as he sat facing her at the table. "Is something wrong, Penny?"

"What?" She shook herself out of her daze. "Oh, nothing dear. I was just remembering the strangest dream."

"Really," Percy hummed, "tell me about it."

"Well," she began, "We were lying in bed and all the sudden the room was filled with this bright purple light. Then out of nowhere your brother George appeared and started dancing around the room. He danced and sang for a few minutes then gave a bow and left." She took a sip of coffee. "It was very strange."

Percy held his sides as he was overcome with a fit of laughter.

"Come on Percy," she scoffed. "It was funny, but it wasn't that funny."

"No," he said finally taking a breath. "It's not that." He continued his fit. "It's just…George really came by last night."

"What!"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I was in the office preparing some papers for work and he popped in. He asked about you and I told him you were asleep. He left shortly thereafter, but I guess not before giving you a little farewell."

Penelope was stunned to silence. She sat for a moment as if studying her coffee cup. Finally she looked her husband in the eyes and said "You're brother is so strange."


	7. Goodbye

**(A/N: A tiny (and I do mean tiny) drabble for ****sugarquill****. 300 words or less, prompt was Goodbye)**

**Goodbye **

He stood there, eyes on the ground, clutching a box in his hands. Sounds around him tried to tempt his eyes upward, but he was frozen there looking at the mound of dirt in front of him. He sniffed, trying to shake the lump from his throat. He did not dry the tears running down his face. They were a badge, a badge in honor of the man who they mourned today. He would wear his tears proudly, he would let them flow.

He looked into the open box. Inside it there was a bright magenta robe, a pair of Extendable Ears, a Skiving Snackbox, and a beater's bat.

The tears flowed faster as he knelt and place the box in the shallow grave.

"Good bye brother," he managed through the sobs, "I'll never be the same without you."


	8. Magical Me

**(A/N: A drabble for sugarquill. The prompt was to present a sample from one of Professor Lockhart's various memoirs or recollections of various escapades.)**

**Magical Me**

**Chapter 12: These Healing Hands**

I was the tender age of nineteen when my travels took me to the desolate town of Dëshpërim, a village far off the beaten path located some 80 km outside of Tirana, Albania. One might say that it was pure accident I stumbled across this place. I, however, believe it was fate.

This primitive village had been over-run with an outbreak of Dragon Pox.

Dragon Pox, though treatable in modern wizarding society, had been eradicating the population of this town for nearly a year. Children scarcely lived past the age of five and the elderly were weak and feeble. Even the seemingly healthy villagers bore a green, scaly complexion.

Upon my arrival, the elders of the town besieged me to assist with the dilemma.

My formal training being in Defending against the Dark Arts I was a tad reluctant to accept. Healing, after all, was a minor part of my education. Still, I could not leave this town to this dark fate. I sequestered myself in a thatch-roof cottage built for me by the remaining able bodied villagers and set to work.

Much to my surprise, I took me just days to concoct a successful remedy. So successful in fact, that the entire village was cleared of its symptoms within the week.

So grateful they were for my efforts that they erected a statue of me in the center of village.

I hear the monument stood until the village mysteriously vanished some years later.


	9. Perfect Morning

**(A/N: Written for ****sugarquill****. 300 words or less (though ****its**** actually 369), prompt was morning.)**

**Perfect Morning**

Hermione stared at the clock on the kitchen wall. She tried to take her mind off of it, getting up from the table to start breakfast. She was only up because she'd been unable to sleep at all the night before. They'd spent nights apart since moving in together. His Auror training often kept him away at night. This, however, was not normal training. This was his final test. Ron had told her the test would end sometime early that morning.

"Please let him have done well," she pleaded aloud.

"Was there any doubt?" a voice answered from behind her.

"Ron!" She whirled.

Without a word he moved forward and lifted her into a hug.

"So, it went well?"

"You could say that," he said producing a certificate from the pocket of his robes.

"Oh Ron!" Hermione squealed leaping into his arms. "I knew you could do it. I just knew it."

He nodded. "Second in my class," he laughed. "One guess who was first."

She kissed him deeply. "I'm so proud of you. This is wonderful news."

"I've got better news."

"What could be better than this?"

He smiled excitedly, "House shopping."

"Ron," she gasped, "you can't be serious. You must be exhausted right now. Something like that can wait. Shouldn't we save up a bit first?"

"I'm too excited to be tired right now. And as far as waiting and saving up, I've been doing that. I promised myself that when I made Auror I would buy a proper house and get you out of this retched flat. I've made Auror. Now I can afford a house and," he hesitated, "a wife."

Hermione was speechless as Ron pull something else from his robe, a ring.

Placing it on her finger he said, "Remember that I bought this on my old wages. I can get a nicer one now if you prefer."

"Don't you think of it," she shushed him. "It's perfect."

"I just thought," he said taking her hand. "It was a pretty good morning when they made me an Auror, but it won't be perfect until you make me your fiancé."

Tears streamed down Hermione's face as she kissed him. It was truly the perfect morning.


	10. Traveling

(A/N: A drabble written for sugarquill. Prompt was kitchen…300 words or less.)

**Traveling **

She threw her hands up as she glanced at the family clock again.

"Traveling", she huffed; three hands labeled for her three youngest sons were now resting on that position.

Pacing back and forth between the living room and the kitchen she flicked her wand from here to there starting the dishes to washing themselves, the broom to sweep the floor and a set of needles to work on a new sweater, Ron was quickly out growing his last.

"How could they," she fretted, "how dare they? I thought I'd given them more sense than too -" she stopped as the clock gave a chime and she watched three hands move slowly towards home.

Holding her breath she listened for the latch of the kitchen door and the patter of teenage feet thinking they'd made it without being caught.

A fiendish smile crept to hear lips as she thought to herself, "and now the fun begins."

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!!!"


	11. Heart's Deepest Desire

(A/N: Drabble for sugarquill. Prompt was to write what someone would see in the Mirror of Erised. I picked Percy…circa Order of the Pheonix.)

**Heart's Deepest Desire**

"I'll only be a moment Minister. I have to check on something."

Percy excused himself, moving quickly through the familiar hallways, taking steps two at a time, hoping against hope it hadn't been moved again.

He heaved a sigh of relief as the opened the door of what looked like a broom cupboard.

Stepping inside he saw his own figure approach the mirror in front of him.

Only, the Percy in the mirror looked different. His lovely ministry robes where now modest and obviously hand-me-down. Yet, the was smiling. Glancing around him he saw the faces of his family. His brothers weren't scowling at him like they had the last time they'd seen him. Ginny didn't look like she wanted to hex him. The heart break was gone from his mother's face and the disappointment was gone from his father's. They were happy to see him. They were welcoming him home. Penny was there as well. Penny, who hadn't spoken to him in months. Penny who believed, more like feared, that The Dark Lord had really returned.

And he, he was happy. For the first time in a long time he saw his own smile.

Wiping a rouge tear from his cheek, "I thought so," he said to his double in the mirror before exiting the room.

As he took his place at the minister's side he knew what he must do. He had to speak to his father. I had to apologize, make him see that he believed them.

"The war is coming," he thought, "I have to make things right with my family before it's too late."


	12. A Change in Plans

(A/N: a drabble for Sugarquill. Prompt was "Plans", 300 words or less.)

**A Change in Plans**

As she peered into the darkness she could make out the faint twinkle of city lights in the distance. She'd been living in the wizarding world since she was eleven; Hermione had gotten use to the way of life. Still, sometimes, she missed the buzz of city life.

The flat she and Ron had lived in the first three years of their marriage was in an urban wizarding community near the heart of London. As such, though they lived without muggle technology, the sound of the city still rose up from the streets outside.

She agreed with Ron's reasoning for moving now that a baby was on the way. The new house was bigger and closer to the Burrow, and the country was arguably better for raising children.

Looking at her tonight though, Ron could tell she missed it.

"Do you regret it?"

"What?" she said startled. "Oh, regret what, dear?"

"Marrying me," he said sheepishly, "moving out here, choosing this life?"

"No." She protested, shocked he would even suggest it. "I love my life."

"But you miss your old life."

"Sometimes," she admitted. "But it's not like I could go back to that even if I wanted to. My life forever changed the day I got my Hogwarts letter."

"And all your plans went out the window."

"No," she smiled. "They just changed a little. I had always figured on a husband who I loved and raising a family in a quaint little house. You've given me all of that."

"So you don't wish you were married to a muggle and living in some posh flat in London."

"No," she answered wrapping her arms around him. "I'm very glad I'm married to a wizard with a beautiful cottage in Ottery St. Catchpole."


	13. Too Good to Waste

(A/N: Drabble for Sugarquill. Prompt was Sunny Afternoon, 300 words or less)

**Too Good to Waste**

The sun teased her through the window. It called to her. It taunted her with promises of fun and laughter.

Her books, seeing her attention fizzle, tugged at her too. They spoke reasonably of deadlines to be met and one last chance to be finished with school and achieve her goals.

With a sigh she returned to her studies.

A breeze pushed its way through the slightly open window, swinging it open the rest of the way. The heavy drapes danced, once more toying with her concentration.

Still she held firm. She was stronger than the sun or the wind. She had more will than that.

"Hermione," called a voice, almost too far away to make out.

Curiosity getting the better of her she made her way to the window and surveyed the garden below.

"Hermione," Ron called up smiling, "Come down. It's so nice out, don't waste it studying."

A smile crept to her lips as she gave a final glance to her books.

It was a sunny afternoon at the burrow, it would be a shame to waste it.


	14. Return to You

(A/N: Drabble for Sugarquill. Prompt was Return, under 300 words. I decided to do a "missing moment" from Deathly Hallows.

**Return to You**

"I don't know what I was thinking," he said, eyes fixed on the cup of tea in front of him.

"You weren't thinking." Bill sighed, sitting down across from him.

"How could I just leave like that? How could I abandon her?"

Bill caught the slip of the tongue Ron was too upset to hide.

"I can't say I understand exactly what happened," Bill said, "but I can assume that you weren't quite yourself."

"I just wish I knew where they were or how to get back to them." Ron said as the radio program they were listening to ended.

"Don't fret," Bill said trying to sound reassuring, "I'm sure you'll find a way. Besides," he said turning off the radio, "It's Christmas, miracles have been known to happen."

"Miracles," Ron said when Bill had left. "I wish."

_"__Ron__."_

His heart leapt. He would know what voice anywhere. Hermione had said his name. She was calling for him.

He didn't know how, but he knew exactly what to do. He pulled the Deluminator from his pocket. He clicked it and watched a blue ball of light dance outside the window. He packed his thing and he ran to the garden. Then, allowing the light to float into him he knew where to go.

_–__POP__–_

He was standing on a snowy hill side.

Looking around, he called out to them, but got no response. He sat on that spot all day hoping they'd show themselves. When the sun set and it grew too cold to wait, he decided to move. Pulling the Deluminator from his pocket he clicked it once more. The ball floated before him once more.

"I promise Hermione," he said to no one. "I promise I'll return to you," he sighed, "and find a way to apologize."


	15. Pride of the Lioness

(A/N: Drabble for sugarquill. Prompt was "pride", 300 words or less.)

**Pride of the Lioness **

She walked without haste for the first time that evening. It was unfamiliar to her body to not feel the tension the past few hours had brought. Ignoring the ache in her muscles she continued on her way.

She'd just been to the Hospital wing to check that those who'd been injured were receiving care. A few fighters had been in such a serious state that they'd been transferred to St. Mungo's, but those that remained were being treated by Madam Pomfrey and a handful of volunteers.

As she approached her destination she paused at the doorway. Looking over the scene taking place in the Great Hall she felt pride well up inside her.

Amidst the chaotic scene she saw a group of students moving. They were setting the room right again. The tables that had been strewn aside were being returned to their rightful place, families were being comforted, and the bodies of the fallen were being carried with honor to an appointed place.

"Professor McGonagall," a familiar voice called with an unfamiliar air of confidence.

"Yes Neville," she answered looking at the war beaten lad who still refused medical care.

"I was thinking, it's been a long night and people are bound to be starving. Would you mind if I went down to the kitchens and asked the house elves to prepare something?"

"That sounds like a marvelous idea," she smiled. "Have a word with Winky, I believe Kreacher has placed her in charge of the kitchens."

The young man limped off in the direction of the kitchens.

Minerva smiled as she watched the rest of her beloved Gryffindors taking charge in the confusion. Proud like a mother watching her children she smiled with the realization that these capable witches and wizards were the future, a comforting notion indeed.


	16. A Different Sort of Drink

(A/N: A drabble written for Sugarquill. Prompt was "drink", under 300 words.)

**A Different Sort of Drink**

"Would you mind getting it," she'd asked when he mentioned a drink.

He walked through the crowded party of smiling, happy people toward the Kitchen where the refreshments were.

He laughed to himself as he poured the drink. Over the years he'd been the "drink fetcher" before; Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks for him, Harry and Hermione when they were younger, then Firewhisky for he and Harry after long nights in the Auror Department, even some fruity pinkish drink for Hermione on nights he convinced her to put the books away.

He weaved his way through the party goers, drink in hand. Returning to his waiting seat, he handed it to Hermione.

"Thank you dear," she said shifting her seat. "She was getting a little fussy."

Ron smiled as his wife gave the bottle to a very appreciative Rose dressed in her birthday best.

He'd be getting a new sort of drink from here on out, he smiled, but that was alright with him.


	17. Tonight's the Night

(A/N: Written for Sugarquill. Prompt was "tonight," 300 words or less)

**Tonight's the Night**

Looking around, making sure he was alone in the store room. When assured of his solitude he made his way to a cluttered shelf marked "NEW INVENTIONS: VERY DANGEROUS." Pushing aside some boxes he found a knothole in the wooden backing of the shelf.

Fred had said this it would be good to have a secret place within the shop. With the war on there were bound to be things they needed to hide. He'd only used it once in all this time, but was glad they'd put it there, if only for that.

"What are you doing," Ron asked walking in to see his brother pointing his wand at a store room shelf.

"Nothing," George said trying not to sound startled. "Moving some boxes."

"Oh," Ron said obviously accepting that answers. "Angelina just popped by looking for you. I told her you were back here and she told me just to pass on a message."

"And that message is," George prompted anxiously.

"That she'd meet you tonight as planned and she promises not to be late this time."

"Right," George nodded, "thanks, mate."

Hearing the shop bell ring Ron rushed out to tend to the customers.

Alone again George raised his wand and mumbled something at the wall. A small square door swung open revealing a surprisingly large compartment containing only a small box.

George removed the box and turned it over proudly in his hand before opening it.

Something shimmered inside sending sparkles across his smiling face.

"Tonight," he sighed, "tonight's the night."


	18. Tears and Chocolate

(A/N: Drabble for Prompt was Chocolate, under 250 words.)

**Tears and Chocolate**

As he drew near the kitchen he caught the unmistakable smell of something burning. Stopping in the door way he saw Hermione sitting in front of the cooker with her head buried in her hands.

"Hermione, are you alright," his voice was soaked in earnest concern. It wasn't everyday he came home to his wife crying on the kitchen floor.

"Fine," she said through obvious tears, "I'm fine. Happy Valentine's Day."

She wiped her face and stood up.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he replied offering her a bouquet of wild flowers and a beautifully wrapped present.

At this she burst into heavy sobs.

"What's wrong," he said taking her in his arms. "I thought you liked flowers and you haven't even seen your present."

"It's not that," she sniffed, "they're lovely really. It's just," she buried her head against his chest. "I burnt your present."

"What," he laughed.

"Your Valentine's Day present, I wanted to make our first Valentine's Day special so I asked your mom for the recipe for that triple chocolate layer cake you like but I burnt it. I'm sorry," she cried.

"It's alright," he said kissing her forehead, "it's sort of nice to see something you're not perfect at."

Hermione popped him with the dishrag she'd been crying into, but from her smile Ron could see he'd said something right.

"Get dressed," Ron smiled, "I've made us dinner reservations."

Hermione smiled.

_That's my Ron_, she thought, _coming to my rescue as always._


	19. Make it Better

(A/N: Written for Prompt was midnight, 100-275 words.)

**Make it Better**

The rocking chair creaked as Hermione tried to sing Rose to sleep. The toddler hadn't allowed her mother to rock her in months. She was simply too big for that, but tonight was different. Tonight Rose was sick. Hermione had tried everything to make the child feel better. From magical solutions like potions and healing charms to Muggle remedies like a cool wash cloth on her forehead to ease her fever. Nothing, however, seemed to work.

Rose fought hard against sleep, tossing her head back and forth whenever she started to drift off.

"Oh Rosie," Hermione said as the clock chimed midnight, "Please go to sleep, darling."

"Daddy," she whined.

"Daddy's at work, sweetheart. He'll be home when you wake up, I promise."

Rose shook her head in protest.

"Hermione," Ron said stepping into the nursery. "What's wrong with Rose?"

"She's sick," Hermione replied. "She's had a fever for the last few hours. I've been trying to get her to sleep but she refused. She wanted you."

Ron picked up the two-year-old who was reaching for him.

"What's the matter, Rosie?" He asked sweetly. "Don't feel good?"

She shook her head.

"It's alright." He kissed her warm forehead. "Want to sleep in Mummy and Daddy's bed tonight?"

She nodded.

Before he reached their bedroom Rose was asleep.

"Guess she just needed her Daddy to make it all better," Hermione cooed as Ron placed their sleeping child in the middle of their bed.


	20. Give Us A Smile

(A/N: Written for Sugarquill. Prompt was "smile," 300 words or less.)

**Give us a Smile**

Rose pursed her lips as her father tried to no avail to make her smile.

"Come on Rosie," he begged. "It's not a bad thing. It happens to everyone."

She shook her head and rested her chin on the kitchen table.

"Your father's right, Love," Molly said setting lunch on the table. "It's just a part of growing up. Everyone loses their baby teeth at some point."

"My parents have been trying to tell her that." Hermione sighed. "Dad even offered to take her to the office and show her pictures of other children her age losing their baby teeth."

"She won't show anyone," Ron said.

Rose bowed her head letting her hair cover her face as she took a bite of her sandwich.

"James and Albus ran around showing everyone when they started losing teeth," Harry laughed. "They think its fun to have teeth falling out."

"I wish you'd smile or talk or something." Ron said catching his daughter's eye. "I haven't seen you open your mouth in two days."

George leaned over the table. "Psst, Rosie," he called. "C'mere."

Rose made her way to her uncle's side and leaned in as he whispered in her ear.

Her lips parted in a wide smile, exposing a gap where her two front teeth should be.

With a giggle she ran off.

"What did you say," Hermione asked in disbelief.

"I told her if she would give me a smile I'd take her to the shop later and give her anything she wanted."

George stood up and strode away from the table.

"Oh no you don't George Weasley," Molly called. "Get back here. You're not to give that child anything dangerous. George! George!" Molly chased after him.

Ron chuckled and Hermione gave him a look.

"What," he questioned. "It worked."


	21. Baby Borrowing

(A/N: Written for the Checkmated Valentine's Day Fiction Exchange. My prompt was a humor fic with the word "Baby." This is try number 1.)

**Baby Borrowing**

"Do you have everything you need," Ginny asked handing James to Hermione.

"I think so," Hermione said in thought. "Ron and Harry put together the cot; we have plenty of nappies, a bathing tub, bottles, blankets, toys, baby food, and more clothes than he could wear in a lifetime."

"Don't be too sure," Ginny joked. "My James can dirty an outfit in the blink of an eye."

Just then, as if on cue James was sick all over himself.

"That's my boy," Ginny said. "I'll just change him before we leave."

"No," Hermione insisted. "I can do it. He's in good hands here. You and Harry just get going and enjoy your weekend."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, it's only a little posset."

"Alright then," Ginny said hugging Hermione. "Have fun. I'll see you on Sunday." She kissed James. "Goodbye, Sweetie. Mummy loves you."

The afternoon had gone rather smoothly, Ron noted as the bathed James and prepared to put him to bed. James had been playful and happy. Bedtime, however, proved quite different. Ron paced back and forth bouncing James lightly as he walked, while Hermione searched her baby book for a solution.

"A bottle," she said suddenly, "that's what I forgot. Ginny says he takes a warm bottle of formula at bed time. You keep rocking him and I'll go warm up his bottle."

The bottle worked and James drifted into peaceful sleep.

After about two hours of sleep Ron awoke to the sound of crying. By the time Ron stumbled sleepily into the spare bedroom Hermione was already trying to quiet the baby.

"What's wrong with him," Ron whispered.

"Nothing," she said laying him down. "Just a little fussy."

In total James slept four hours that night and by lunchtime Ron and Hermione needed a nap. As they were feeding James Hermione heard a noise from the sitting room and went to check what it was.

"That was Finworth," she said when she returned; "he flooed to say there is an emergency at the office. Nothing serious," she assured, "but I have to go in. I'll floo your mum and see if she minds popping over for a bit to help with James."

"Don't do that," Ron insisted. "I can handle him on my own."

"Are you sure," Hermione questioned.

"Absolutely. Besides, how will I ever be ready to have my own child if I can't handle my nephew for an afternoon?"

"Alright," she said slightly surprised. "Just remember, your mum is only a floo away. Don't be too proud to ask for help."

"I won't need it."

It was late in the evening when Hermione finally returned home. The house was in shambles covered in toys and dirty baby cloths. Hermione checked the spare bedroom but found it empty. As she entered the bed room she saw Ron's favorite shirt slung over a chair covered in posset.

She tiptoed to the bed to find Ron asleep with a peaceful James cuddled to his chest.


	22. Beautiful Disaster

(A/N: Written for the Checkmated Valentine's Day Fiction Exchange. My prompt was a humor fic with the word "baby." This is my second try and the one I used in the end.

**Beautiful Disaster**

"Don't worry about a thing," Hermione had said bidding Harry and Ginny farewell. "James will be fine with us, just have a nice weekend."

Hermione had told him it would be a great idea to offer to watch James for the weekend. Good practice, she'd called it, for when they had their own children. He knew that Hermione really wanted children, as did he, so he'd agreed.

By the 3:00 AM Saturday morning Ron was wondering if this was such a good idea. Harry had neglected to mention that his son wailed like an angry mandrake all night allowing a person only two hours of sleep.

After making a complete mess of breakfast James finally settled down of a nap. Hermione and Ron had just sat relaxed when a green flash in the fireplace caught their attention.

"Sorry to bother you on the weekend Mrs. Weasley," it was the voice of Hermione's assistant Finn.

"Don't worry about it Finn," she said. "How can I help you?"

"It's just," he hesitated. "There is a situation."

Just then James began to cry.

"I'll get him," Ron said. "You see what's happening at work."

Ron returned a few moments later carry James and found Hermione in the downstairs office.

"What's up?"

"I'm not sure," she said gather some paper work, "something about an incident involving a group of Centaurs and a Quidditch team quarreling over a meadow."

"How long will you be gone," Ron asked bouncing James gently.

"I don't know. Not too long, I would think. I'll floo your mum and ask if she minds popping by to give you a hand."

"No," Ron protested. "I'll be fine. You won't be gone long. Besides, what happens when it's our baby? I can't go running to my mum every time you get called away."

"Alright," she said hesitantly.

Two hours passed and it was time to give James lunch. Ron found the mashed peas Hermione had prepared and sat down to feed James. Within minutes James had gotten more peas on the floor and walls than in his mouth.

Ron attempted to set the kitchen to cleaning itself, but found it difficult to maneuver his wand with a baby in his arms. He decided he'd clean it when James was asleep.

James, however, did not sleep the rest of the afternoon.

Dinner went a bit better than lunch, Ron suspected James like carrots better than peas. Bath time, however, left Ron and the bathroom floor soaked and bed time was beginning to look as trying as the night before.

It was midnight when Hermione finally came home.

Her jaw dropped when she saw her kitchen splattered in green and orange mush. The sitting room was in a similar state and the bathroom was sopping. Finding James' cot empty she checked the bedroom. Approaching the bed she saw Ron's favorite shirt lying on the floor covered in posset and found her husband sleeping soundly with a sleeping baby cuddled closely to his chest.


	23. You Won't Need Luck

(A/N: Written for checkmated. Prompt was 'luck' under 100-275 words.)

**You Won't Need Luck**

"So it is tonight then?"

"What," Ron said his attention drawn away from the small box in his hand and toward the doorway where his father now stood.

His father gestured towards the box. "You'll be asking her tonight?"

"Yeah," Ron gulped, "That's the plan."

"Nervous," his dad asked.

"Absolutely terrified. Weren't you?"

"I was," his dad nodded. "I was sure she'd laugh or throw the ring back in my face."

"I suppose a ring to the face is better than canaries," Ron laughed.

His father nodded, though he didn't totally understand that remark.

"Don't fret," he said placing his hand on Ron's shoulder. "I've watched you two dance around each other more than half your lives. I can't think of any two people more perfect for one another."

"You really think she'll say yes?"

"I'm certain of it."

Arthur reached inside his robes producing a small flask and then with a flick of his wand conjured two glasses.

"For luck," he said toasting his son.

Ron gulped it down quickly. "If only it had Felix Felicis in it."

"You won't need it."

Arthur watched as his son smoothed his robes and Apparated out of the Burrow's sitting room.

Arthur made his way to the kitchen, finding his wife busy and covered in flour. A heart shaped cake sat in the middle of the table and a banner hung across the room.

_**CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE!**_

No he wouldn't need luck, Arthur though smiling. The whole world knew what her answer would be.


	24. “Freshly Mown Grass, New Parchment and…”

(A/N: Written for sugarquill. Prompt was smell, under 300 words.)

**"Freshly Mown Grass, New Parchment and…"**

She stared blankly beyond the spiral of steam rising from her cauldron. It had been difficult these last few weeks to concentrate on work and fully enjoy being back in school. It simply wasn't the same.

Her eyes fell to the empty chair next to her.

If only she'd convinced him to come with her. She realized that school didn't appeal to him, but she missed him all the same.

Today's lesson wasn't helping, she thought. She remembered being introduced to this potion in her sixth year, but not being expected to master it. Thinking back dreamily on that day she remembered her first reaction to the smell.

She breathed in deep. Thoughts of home swirl through her as she smelled freshly mown grass, peaceful nights of studying accompanied the scent of new parchment, and then there was the last scent. This scent had stopped her in her tracks two years ago. This scent confirmed her deepest fears.

She breathed in once more nearly drowning in the heavenly scent. Ron's hair, she thought with a sigh. The scent was stronger now than it had been the first time. It was a smell she'd memorized over the last year and the one scent she missed most now.

Even Professor Slughorn's praises on her flawless potion did not cheer her mood. She frowned, heart aching as the smell of Ron brought back the memories of their stolen moments this summer.

"Smile," Ginny said appearing next to her. "Tomorrow is Saturday, Hogsmead weekend."

Ginny offered a smile and a wink before returning to her own potion.


	25. Taking Risk

(A/N: Written for sugarquill. Prompt was "Risk".)

**Taking Risk**

Ginny's blood was rushing as she moved quickly through the corridors, Neville and Luna trying to keep up. Quietly pushing open the door, she breathed a sigh of relief to find the office empty.

"Are you sure we should be doing this," Neville asked.

"Absolutely," she said picking up a candlestick from the bookcase.

Without a moment's thought she smashed the glass case open, retrieving the sword.

"I think we should hurry," Luna said softly, "Someone might have heard that."

Neville led the way down the winding staircase, smiling in their success.

"What have we here," Professor Snape asked calmly blocking the bottom of the staircase.

Snape stepped forward to commandeer the sword. Wrestling for a moment Ginny finally forfeited the heirloom.

"That's Harry's," she spat. "Dumbledore left it to him; you have no right to keep it from him."

"Potter," Snape laughed, "How long has it been Ms. Weasley since you've heard from your hero? Off somewhere hiding with Granger, do you honestly think he cares what's happening to the rest of you? You're loyalty is misplaced." Snape made his way up the stairs. "That will be 100 points from Gryffindor," he said turning back to the students, "and 50 from Ravenclaw. You will all report to Hagrid this Friday evening for detention. Perhaps that will convince you to think twice before you take another risk for your precious Potter. Now, back to your houses."

"We'll try again," Luna said ask they reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw dormitory.

"It won't work," Ginny sighed. "He'll move it now. We have no way of knowing where he'll take it."

"At least we got off easy," Neville added. "We could have had detention with the Carrow's."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "That is sort of odd."


	26. Only the Best

(A/N: Written for Sugarquill. Prompt was "accomplish," under 300 words.)

**Only the Best**

"Harry?"

Ron stepped into a room stuffed wall to wall with toys.

"What's all this, mate?"

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like my sister was right when she said you've lost your mind."

"No I haven't," Harry said arranging the pile of toys in front of him onto shelves.

"So you think this is perfectly sane?"

"Absolutely. What's insane about wanting your child to have everything they could want?"

"Yeah, but-"

Harry interrupted.

"Listen. I don't expect you or Ginny to understand. You had a happy childhood."

Ron opened his mouth to interject but Harry raised his hand to stop him.

"I know money was tight, but you were happy and loved. Your parents did the best they could to provide for you. I didn't have that." Harry's chest tightened as he spoke of things he'd tried to forget. "I slept in a cupboard under the stairs until they found out I could do magic. I never got toys for my birthday or Christmas. The only time I remember having toys is when Dudley had already broken them and I fished the out of the bin. I just want to make sure that my son never has to want for anything."

"I think you've accomplished that," Ron said picking up a toy broom stick from the nearest shelf. "I understand where you're coming from, but can I just point one thing out?"

"Sure," Harry said adjusting the snitch mobile above the crib.

Ron let the small broom hover for a moment as he chuckled. "He's only a week old."


	27. To Do List

(A/N: Written for checkmated. Prompt was 'goal'.)

**To Do List**

Ron had never been a list maker. He was never one to set goals or expectations for himself. In fact, Ron never really made plans for himself before now. Funny how almost dying can make a person want to plot things out. He supposed it had something to do with convincing yourself that you'd be around to do those things.

So Ron ran over the list once more in his head. A few things where short term goals, like finishing a potions essay or passing his Apparition exam next time. Others were more lofty goals like becoming an Auror or making his parents proud the way his brothers had, but two in particular stood out to him.

_Break up with Lavender, _he thought, _d__one._ Alright, so he hadn't really broken up with Lavender but the end result the same. It had taken longer than he would have liked, but he'd never done that sort of thing before. He tried dropping hints, but nothing was working. In the end Lavender's jealousy got the better of her, unable to handle Ron's friendship with Hermione. Ron didn't care. It was over and that's what mattered. Now, on to more pressing business.

His eyes drifted upward to the girl across from her studying her essay. Swallowing hard he moved on to his next 'to do'. _Tell Hermione how I feel_.


	28. Persistence is Key

(A/N: Written for sugarquill. Prompt was "Persistence".)

**Persistence is Key**

"Persistence," he said as he paced between rows of work tables. "That is the key. In your other class you are given one correct way to do things. One wrong stir and a potion is ruined. An incorrect turn of the wrist and a charm may not work. Herbology is about persistence. Trial and error, try out different things until it something takes."

"Professor?"

He turned to see a Slytherin raising his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Pritchard, is it?"

"Gavin Pritchard," he answered. "I was wondering Professor, it sounds as if there is basically no skill needed to succeed in Herbology. So why do we study it?"

"No, no, no," he laughed. "You've missed my point. Persistence is the skill. It takes a special person to truly succeed in Herbology." He leaned down looking the boy in the eye. "Have you ever heard of Campana Noctis?"

The boy shook his head.

"Night bells," he went on, "very delicate flower, used in a number of healing potions. Sensitive to sunlight, they can only be fed and pruned at night. Before they bloom, they must be fed three times a night at two hour intervals and the time from sprout to blossom is about five weeks. Think of it Mr. Pritchard, the care, the tenderness, the attention to detail. The persistence needed to produce this crucial ingredient. Without skilled Herbologist these flowers would not survive. Without these flowers certain potions would be impossible."

The class looked thoroughly impressed as they shuffled off to their next class.

"Professor Longbottom," the Slytherin boy said as the greenhouse emptied.

"Yes, Mr. Pritchard?"

"Are we going to be working with that Campana Noctis any?"

"Not until sixth year. N.E.W.T level."

"Oh," he said with a grin, "I'll just have to be sure to N.E.W.T in Herbology then."


	29. Lonely

(A/N: Drabble for Checkmated. Prompt was "school's out")

**Lonely**

He'd been ready for nearly an hour when she finally came down stairs.

"C'mon," he urged. "We're going to be late."

"We've got an hour until the train arrives," she said looking at the clock, "and it's only going to take a moment to apparate there."

"I know but what if the train comes early?"

"Ron," she laughed, "when have you ever known the Hogwarts Express to be early," she paused, "or late for that matter? It will be there at the exact same time it always is."

"You don't still have that time turner do you? Can it make time speed up?"

"What's gotten into you? You've never been like this."

"I just miss the children."

Hermione shook her head. "I miss them too, but this is different. You weren't like this the last two years with Rosie coming back from school."

Ron looked at the floor. He could feel Hermione's eyes on him. 

"I miss Hugo!" He sounded disappointed in himself. "I love Rosie…don't get me wrong. She's my little girl, my world, but…" he looked up. "I miss having someone to play with. This last year has been torture. I haven't had anyone to play quidditch with or someone to beat me at chess. I mean, I've enjoyed our alone time." Ron blushed like a teenager. "It's been really nice to just spend time as your husband. I just can't wait to have my boy back home."

Hermione just shook her head and smiled. 

"Come on," she smiled. "Maybe the train will be early."


	30. The Right Choice

(A/N: Drabble for Sugarquill. Prompt was "decide.")

**The Right Choice**

"On to the next order of business," he said looking at the list he'd scribbled on a coaster from the Leaky Cauldron, "the new line of Skiving Snackboxes should be hitting the shelves next week just in time for back-to-school shopping. We need to make sure we keep the shelves stocked and have plenty in storage. There are advertisements running on the WWN and printed in the Prophet and the Quibbler. There will be a prominent display in the shop window both here and in the Hogsmeade shop."

A great sigh came from across the table. George looked up from his notes to see his brother gazing off into space, doodling thoughtlessly on the parchment in front of him. George nudged Lee at his side and motioned to Ron's doodles. The page contained a few brief notes of today's meeting, but was covered in hearts surrounding the letters R and H. Sometimes the name Hermione was scribbled with a smaller heart dotting the "I".

George had noticed that his younger brother had been distracted off late and had gathered that Ron's condition was caused by the rapidly approaching school year. He knew that Hermione had decided to return to Hogwarts and complete her seventh year. Ron, on the other hand, had not. She would be leaving in a week.

Ron looked up noticing that the conversation had stopped.

"Lastly," he said trying to act casual. "As we will be opening our Hogsmeade location this week it is time to assign one of us as head shop keeper. Ron," he said smiling. "I think you'll do fine for that."

Ron looked shocked.

"You'll find that the flat above the shop is already furnished. You can move in as soon as you like."

His brother blinked in surprise. George simply smiled knowingly.


	31. Mistakes of the Past

(A/N: Drabble for Checkmated. Prompt was "crisp".)

**Mistakes of the Past**

"Stay still," he said trying to attach a letter to Pig's leg. "Take this to Hermione. As fast as you can."

He opened the window letting the crisp autumn breeze caress his face as Pig flew away.

From the window of his flat he could see Hogwarts on the hillside and as he thought of how close Hermione was he praised his older brother as a kind and generous boss.

Looking down at a bouquet of flowers he'd picked up the night before he hoped that she would get his letter in time.

A few moments later Pig zoomed in, huffing and puffing, and extended his leg. Ron's fingers fumbled to untie the letter.

_**I'll be there.**_

_**Love, Hermione**_

Ron smiled from ear to ear. The date was on. He had his chance to make amends.

Rushing to his bedroom to finish getting ready he wondered if she realized exactly what day it was and if he could ever make up for what he had done on that very day the year before.


	32. A Special Book

(A/N: Drabble for sugarquill. Prompt was "book".)

**A special book**

Hermione sighed, relieved to be alone for the moment.

Suddenly a knock came at the door.

"Come in," she called reluctantly.

"Oh good," her soon to be Mother-in-law said stepping in, "I hoped I'd catch you alone."

Molly pulled a small beautifully wrapped package from her robes.

"I wanted to give this to you before the wedding started, when we could get a moment to ourselves."

Hermione pulled away the wrapping to expose a delicately handcrafted leather book.

"Oh Molly, it's beautiful." Hermione ran her fingers over the letters scrolled across the cover. "Practical Spells Every Witch Should Know, I've never heard of it."

"You wouldn't have. This is a one of a kind book."

Hermione looked confused.

"I'm sure Ron and Ginny have told you that Ginny is the first girl born in the Weasley family for several generations. Well, many years ago a Weasley wife, upon realizing she'd have no daughters, decided to impart her motherly wisdom in a different way. She began writing down her household spells and remedies in hopes of passing it down to the woman her son married. The book has been added to and passed on in this way ever since. Arthur's mother gave it to me." Molly placed her hand on Hermione's. "Now I'm giving it to you."

Hermione was stunned to silence. Finally all she could muster was "why."

Molly laughed.

"I don't mean it like that, it's just you have other daughter-in-laws, and Ginny, why me?"

"The others were raised in wizarding homes, they will have learned from their mothers. Ginny, well, I made certain she learned it all. You didn't have the chance they did." Molly smiled. "There are things in here they never taught at Hogwarts."

Hermione hugged her new mother, tears streaming down her face.

"Thank you."


	33. A Nice Substitute

(A/N: No guys I'm not dead…just working. My job is slowing down my drabbles…but since I don't get paid to write drabbles I guess I'll just have to deal with it. Anyway…this one is for sugarquill. Prompt was "Substitute".)

**A Nice Substitute**

She turned over with great effort, still not accustom to moving the added weight at her rounded midsection.

It was hard sleeping. The bed was unfamiliar, though she remembered sleeping in this very bed many times before. The house was too quiet; the droning snore usually next to her was noticeably absent. Something was missing. Someone was missing.

When Harry and Ron had been called away on assignment, Hermione thought it would be no problem. Ron had gone away during training. When it was announced that they'd be gone for two weeks Molly had insisted that she and Ginny were coming to stay at the Burrow.

"The pregnant wives of Aurors should not be left unprotected," Molly had insisted, "you'd be prime targets. Not to mention Ginny shouldn't be taking care of James by herself in her condition."

She appreciated the concern and the company. She would have probably spent a good deal of time at the Burrow anyway, but it didn't make it better.

Hermione had been having trouble sleeping for the last few months. Her body had changed so much; it was almost as if it wasn't her body at all. She felt so foreign, so strange. The only peace she could find those nights was the weight of Ron's body next to her, the steady sound of his breathing, and his strong arm draped over her.

Just then, James shifted between her and Ginny. Throwing his little arm over Hermione he snored softly.

Laughing to herself she closed her eyes. It wasn't perfect, but it was a nice substitute.


	34. I Heard a Noise

(A/N: Drabble for sugarquill. Prompt was noise. Missing moment.)

**I Heard a Noise**

His eyes squinted trying to adjust to the dim firelight. Looking instinctively to the makeshift bed of cushions next to him, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

His mind was racing as he leapt from the floor, not caring if he woke Harry. Gripping his wand tightly he bolted out of the room expecting the worst.

Hermione jumped as she Ron rounded the corner nearly running into her.

"What are you doing up," she asked as she finally calmed herself.

"I was looking for you. What are you doing wandering around in the middle of the night?"

"I heard a noise and I got scared." She looked slightly embarrassed.

"So you decided to go investigate by yourself instead of waking one of us up to check it out?"

"I didn't want to bother you."

"Trust me, I would have preferred that to waking up to an empty bed next to me."

"I'm sorry," she said in earnest, "I didn't mean to worry you."

"Well, do you want me to take a look around?"

"No, I think it was just Kreacher."

They made their way back to the sitting room and back into their beds.

The creak of a floorboard caused Hermione to jump.

"Hermione," Ron said putting his hand on hers, "it's just the house settling. There's nothing to be afraid of. No one can find use here and if they did, they'd set off the alarms."

Hermione took a breath.

"Ready to get some sleep?"

Hermione nodded.

Ron moved his hand, but she reached for him.

His eyes were full of hopeful confusion as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Just until I fall asleep," she pleaded.

Ron nodded.

Drifting into sleep he tried not to let his heart hope, but smiled at Hermione's hand in his.


	35. It's Not That Simple

(A/N: Drabble for Sugarquill. Prompt was "ambition." For once, my entry does not include the word…but is very much inspired by it, which is all that is required.)

**It's Not That Simple**

"There shouldn't be a question here," he said in frustrated confusion. "The answer is yes. Of course the answer is yes."

"It's not that simple," he sighed.

"Not that simple? You've just been offered the job that could make your career. Personal assistant to the Minister and it's real this time. Nothing to do with keeping you close and watched, nothing to do with who your family is and what information you can offer. This is for you, your merit, and your talent. This could be your spring board in the future. You can't let the opportunity pass you by."

"I know dad, but…"

"But nothing Percy! What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of losing you again!"

Arthur's face grew serious as tears streamed down his son's face.

"I'm afraid that if I take this job, it will take me over and I'll be that same-" Percy swallowed hard, choking back tears. "That same _power-hungry moron_ I was before."

Arthur closed his eyes as if those familiar words physically stung.

"That's what this is about? He wouldn't have wanted this, Percy." Arthur placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Fred loved you. He wouldn't want you to throw your life away because of what happened to him. He would want you to be the absolute best person you could be. Do this," he begged, "the right way this time. Do this for Fred."


	36. I Made a Mistake

(A/N: For sugarquill. Prompt was "mistake".)

**I Made a Mistake**

There was a quite tap at the door. She looked up; eyes met with a sort of sadness she almost felt sympathy for, almost.

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as she struggled to stand.

"I don't need your help," she said pulling her hand away.

He withdrew as if her words or the touch of her skin on his had stung him.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

"For what," she snapped. "For walking out on the woman carrying your child? For not contacting me for over a month? For calling our baby a mistake? For breaking my heart? Exactly which of these things are you sorry for Remus?"

"For all of it," he couldn't look at her, "for everything. I shouldn't have walked out like that. I didn't mean it. Our baby is not a mistake. I'm just," he paused, "scared. This isn't done Dora. My kind don't have families. There is no way of knowing what will happen. I just don't want to put you or this baby through the kind of pain and ridicule I've been through."

She turned her back to him. "I'd prefer that to the pain of having to explain to our baby that its father let fear drive him away from the people he loved."

He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I'm a weak and foolish man. I made a mistake."

"And it took you this long to realize that?"

"I said I was foolish."

"Not foolish," she said turning towards him, "just a little slow."

He smiled kissing her. "I'll never leave you again, Dora. I promise."

"You'd better not. My father has a lunar calendar and a strong right hook."


	37. Hush of Whispers

**A Hush of Whispers**

There was an unfamiliar air about the castle. She knew that it would be different coming back, but she hadn't known just how much until a hush of whispers followed her into the great hall, once more when she came into Gryffindor Tower, and again in every class she had that day.

She could never make out all that was being said, but the subject was obvious when every murmured conversation turned up the name "Ron."

She was shocked at first wondering just what sort of things people where speculating about the two of them. What did people know? What conclusions had that leapt to? What rumors were flying?

Still, it wasn't all bad, she realized.

She'd been the subject of rumors before, having supposedly dated both Viktor and Harry, and had tragically broken both of their hearts. The idea was completely laughable to Hermione. She wasn't interested in Viktor or Harry and she certainly had never broken either of their hearts.

This time though she relished in the thought that she was part of a plausible rumor. Not just plausible, she thought, but mostly true.

The next day, as the whispers continued at breakfast she wondered if she should confirm everyone's suspicions and put an end to all the talk or enjoy the limelight.

Just then the room was filled with fluttering wings as owls flocked in to deliver the morning post.

Pig zoomed in circling the Gryffindor table until Ginny reached up and snatched him like an oversized Snitch.

"I got a letter from Harry," she said untying a letter from the owl's tiny leg. "Ron sent you one too," she teased handing over a second letter.

Hermione smiled to herself as she looked at her name in sloppy script across the envelope and heard the whispers start again.


	38. Hesitation

(A/N: Drabble for Sugarquill. Prompt was Hesitate.)

**Hesitation**

"Expelliarmus!"

Her shout broke his trance and snapped him back into reality. Seconds later his wand flew from his hand and he was thrown backwards, colliding into a bookcase.

Her hands covered her mouth in shock as she saw what she'd done.

"Are you alright," she said running to his side.

"Yeah," he said, pride hurting as much as his backside. "I'm fine."

"You hesitated." She extended a hand to help him up. "You can't hesitate. You can't hold back because I'm a girl."

"I wasn't. I…" he stopped. This excuse was better than the truth. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Her expression was stern.

"You can't do that Ron. I need to be prepared. Death Eaters won't care weather I'm a girl or not, they won't hold back, so neither can you."

"Alright," he said, "sorry. No more hesitation, I promise."

He took his stance again. He wasn't trying to go easy on her. He wanted to take this as seriously as she was, but each session proved more difficult than the last.

They'd been at the Burrow for weeks now without Harry. In those weeks Ron was constantly reminded of things he was trying to hide.

Suddenly every touch became significant. Every look became a glimmer of hope. Most of his days were spent in contemplation. He wondered if it were possible that she could feel the same. He wondered if he should make a move. If he made a move, when and how should he do it? Questions only brought more doubt and doubt brought -

"Expelliarmus!"

- hesitation.

"Ron, you're still doing it!"


	39. I Guess I Was Wrong

(A/N: Drabble for sugarquill. Prompt was a quote. "His priority did not seem to be to teach them what he knew, but rather to impress upon them that nothing, not even... knowledge, was foolproof.")

**I Guess I Was Wrong**

"It's absurd," she said reading again. "She can't be serious about this."

"I don't know Hermione. You know once she gets an idea in her head she's got to see it through."

"This is a little extreme, even for her."

"Luna knows what she's doing."

"Does she? She turned down three job offers to wander around looking for a creature that doesn't exist."

"Who knows, she may find something, this isn't some second rate creature hunt, it's sponsored by the Scamander Foundation for Natural Discovery. Dad says Scamander grandsons is heading the expedition."

"Well," she sighed, "maybe once she gets finds something she'll give up on that Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Weeks passed then turning into months, and before they knew it Luna had been gone for over a year. She missed Ginny's first League title with the Holyhead Harpies and the party celebrating Neville's appointment as Herbology Professor, not to mention a total of four weddings.

She would send letters once or twice a month, filling everyone in one her trip. She was making friends and finding all sorts of interesting things, but every letter ended "No sign of the Snorkack yet, still holding out hope. Yours truly, Luna."

Hermione's reply was consistent as well. She spent most of her letter trying to convince Luna to come home.

On a morning when Luna's absence was rounding the eighteen month mark, Ron entered the kitchen and silently place at news paper on the table in front of Hermione.

**Lovegood and Scamander Discover New Species in Sweden**

Hermione stared breathlessly at the headline, studying the picture of Luna, the bespectacled man she could only assume was Rolf Scamander, and a creature she hadn't believed in until that very moment.

"Well," she said in the purest state of shock. "I guess I was wrong."


	40. It's Snowing

(A/N: Long time no….writing…lol. I've been really busy with work, but I found a little time so I did some writing. The prompt for this one was "Cozy".)

**It's Snowing**

A sudden chill woke him without warning. Blinking at the pale sunlight through the window he saw flakes of white floating down.

"Hermione," he whispered softly. "Hermione, wake up."

The sleeping beauty beside him stirred.

"What is it, Love," she asked without opening her eyes.

"Wake up," he said nuzzling up close to her, "It snowing."

Her eyes fluttered open, and then closed again. "So it is."

"Let's get dressed and go out." She moaned in protest. "Oh, c'mon. It's the first snow of the season."

She still didn't move.

"Our first snow as husband and wife."

Her eyes finally opened as she smiled at him.

"You're absolutely right and you know what I want to do on my first snowy day as a wife?

"What's that," Ron said thinking of snowball fights and laughter.

"I want to snuggle with my husband in our warm, cozy bed."

"Is that right?"

"Yes," she said wrapping her arms around him, "just the two of us all warm and happy in our bed, drinking hot coco."

"But you'd have to get up to make hot coco."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That's funny, I thought I was a witch." She retrieved her wand from the nightstand and flicked it towards the Kitchen.

Seemingly satisfied Ron laid back down and kissed Hermione's neck.

"Okay," he sighed happily. "You win."


End file.
